


Rest In Me

by blueberryfallout



Category: Preacher (Comics), Preacher (TV)
Genre: Multi, My trash children, may have some plot tho, no angst just chillin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:26:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7518611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberryfallout/pseuds/blueberryfallout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ahhhh god i love this show so much and i love these characters i just hope i'm writing them okay???? like i said their voices are very hard to get right but i just keep writing more can't help it no idea when this'll be over. also sorry for all of jesse's pain in this story lol i promise he'll get a nice big reward later (it's dick. lots of dick) also could someone tell me if i need to edit my formatting/spacing for how i do my stories? cause it looks okay on a phone but otherwise...*shrug*</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cassidy rolls over, and honestly? Fuck his life. He feels like being a vampire should grant him _exemption_ from hangovers and assorted ailments of all kinds. No such luck, though. Tulip grunts as he rolls to his side, clutching his aching head.

“Fuck,” he groans, the u so drawn out it sounds like an o. Pulling on pants from the night before, barely even stained he swears, he grabs for a mostly smoked cigarette that Tulip left on the windowsill. Fire hazard, that. He scratches at his chest hair as he finishes it, knocking the ashes to a carpet that’s seen a hundred spills, and nudges Tulip awake. She blinks those big eyes at him, still sleepy enough that her expression has barely any hatred in it. Could drive a man soft, it really could. “Hey, luv. What’s for breakfast?” 

She turns back over with an expressive finger and a “Fuck you,” for emphasis. Looks like he’ll have to fend for himself, then. He gets to his feet, swaying a little, still high from…whatever it was he took last night, some pills he found in the medicine cabinet. He’s not sure. 

There’s a half full beer on the nightstand that he chugs, swishing to get rid of the taste of sleep. The sun is rising high in the sky, damn it all. Too bright to do any sort of hunting. Tulip’s started keeping rats for this purpose-she’s so good to him, she really is-so he drains a few instead, tossing their little furry bodies in the trash. He’s glad they’re done using dogs; Cassidy’s done a lot of bad things in his life, gotten down on his knees and everything, but there’s some shit even he’s not good with. He’ll do it, sure, but he doesn’t have to like it. 

He makes his slow way to the bathroom, stepping over Tulip’s uncle passed out in the hallway, takes a piss, steps back over the uncle on his way back to bed. He’s never quite learned the uncle’s name, s’not like they have more than a passing acquaintance, _honestly_ , and a mutual bond being that Tulip cares for both of them. Well. He thinks Tulip cares, somewhere behind all that whatever the hell makes Tulip Tulip. 

She’s still sleeping when he returns, crawling over her all careful like, getting back into a bed that smells like the cocoa butter she rubs into her skin every night, the oil of her hair. He prods her about a bit til she uncurls, sleep-soft and overwarm in this fuckin heat. Cassidy doesn’t have much heat to him, though, being dead and all, so he takes every bit he can get.

She makes a sniffling noise as he folds her legs over his, her head on his chest. If he was a better person, if they were better people, he’d say he’s in love with this girl, with this hellion disguised as a person. Cassidy is Cassidy, though, just wasting some time in her short life. He kisses her forehead anyway, and falls back asleep.  
++  
Honestly, knowing Cass is an experience. Tulip used to think _she_ was a trash can of a person. She can tell that Cass is a thousand times worse, and she even likes the guy. She watches him snort and scratch his nose in his sleep, unfolding his long legs to turn over.

He managed to put jeans on while she was sleeping, a pair with a rip in the knee that used to belong to Jesse. She would know, she took them off him often enough. Tulip kicks at his ankle before getting out of bed, pulling on a tanktop that could belong to either of them. “Get out of bed, asshole. Sun’s rising.” 

Cass blinks at her, brows rising then furrowing all in a second. Jesus, he’s got a hell of a face. “Well, that’s the point of it, ain’t it? To avoid the sun, like.” He flashes her one of those grins that show too many teeth, that always send a bit of a shiver down her spine. But Tulip O’Hare is afraid of no man, especially not some punk excuse for a vampire.  
Cass rolls back to his stomach, skinny shoulderblades bunching as he pulls a pillow close and shoves his face into it. “Could sleep s’more. Y’could join me.” For a second she’s almost tempted, the threads of sleep dragging at her eyes. Feels like, nowadays, there’s never enough rest, there’s just stubbornness and Texas heat and a town that she thought she left behind. But where Jesse goes, Tulip goes. That’s how it’s always been and that’s how it always will be and she hates herself for it. Now there’s Cass, too, skewered between both of them and seemingly happy to be that way.  
He looks over his shoulder, grinning like a damn fool, and now that she’s more awake she can see the blood on his mouth. “Are there any rats left?” At this rate, they’re gonna have to start breeding them. 

“Mhm.” He gets to his feet, so she has to look up at him, which she hates, so she pushes him back down, which leads to them fucking around til she’s perched on his hips, grinning. He could take her down if he really wanted to, maybe. That’s half the fun. 

“C’mon, love. Stay here w’ me,” Cass is pleading as his hands curl at her hips. She grabs for his wrists, squeezing til her nails leave half-moons, feeling that mean streak rise and knowing he loves it. This man, honestly. For someone she fucked to use, he’s really turned out well. 

“Say please, sugar,” she croons, low and nasty, leaning close enough to smell the blood on his breath. Probably shouldn’t turn her on as much as it does. Well, if she feels bad about that she can go confess to Jesse later, watch his stupid squinty eyes widen as she recites how hard she fucks his best friend. Serves the bastard right.

“Please,” Cassidy groans, giving it up easy like he always does. She releases his wrist, digging her nails into the tattoos on his shoulders and dragging down, leaving long red marks. Cass doesn’t mind. She laughs and takes his mouth.


	2. Dinner

“So, I’ve gotta sign this…waiver, thingy, eh?” Emily, sat across from him with one of her spawn perched on her lap, looks like she’s barely repressing the urge to roll her eyes. What a woman. 

“Uh huh,” she says, looking for all the world like she’s dealing with one of her kiddies. Cassidy makes faces at her baby girl, Alice, til the girl giggles, clapping her chubby little hands together. 

“Why?” he asks, scratching at the side of his head with the pen she slid over for him to use. 

“You’re a participant in church activities now, you need to be up to date with our insurance.” A _participant_. Well. Ain’t that somethin. Usually when he’s listed as a _participant_ it shows up in the evening news. 

“Alright then, luv.” He signs, stealing the pen when he’s done because of who he is as a person. “All proper and legal, like.”

Emily takes the paper from him, their hands briefly touching, how romantic. He can hear the heart beating in her chest, slow and lush, droolingly good, Jesus Christ. When did he last eat something that wasn’t a rat? He’s half-lost in thinkin about tearing her throat out when he realizes she’s been snapping her fingers.

“Cassidy? Cassidy!” He refocuses on her pretty, tired face and remembers that he’d feel bad if he killed her, bloody hell. It’s time to get something a bit more substantial to sink his teeth in, maybe pay a visit to the hospital. 

“Yeah, uh, yes?” 

“Are you okay?” She’s concerned, too nice for her own good.

“Mhm!” He lifts his brows, wide eyed and earnest, grinning. 

“I’ll see you at dinner, then?” 

“You will see me at dinner, then,” he promises, slumping back into the hard wood of his chair, Jesse’s chair. Christ, it’s hot enough here to melt his arsehole shut, what a tragedy that would be. Emily leaves with a quick goodbye, lifting Alice easily to her hip, the kid waving goodbye. 

Cassidy winces as the door swings open, letting in sun and Tulip, who slides past Emily with a quiet hello. Sun or Tulip, he’s honestly not sure which one is more painful. “Hey,” he greets, smiling easy as she sets her bag down with a thunk.

“Y’here to make dinner?”

“No, I’m here to set the place on fire, _yes_ I’m here to make dinner,” she answers, nasty as always. The women in this town, honestly. Well, mostly it’s just Tulip that he knows, but she’s more than enough woman for anyone. He chuckles, hooking his fingers in her belt loops to pull her closer, press kisses to the sliver of belly he can see above her waistband.

“Now now, love. Be nice.” She snorts, threading her fingers through his hair, tugging a little. When did he last shower? He can’t remember, Jesus Christ. Poor Tulip havin to put up with him. Then he remembers he made her come three times last night and feels better. He’s not all bad.  
++  
Cassidy’s a parasite in more ways than just pure and simply vampiric, he knows it, likes to think he can be honest with himself. Case in point: eating dinner at Tulip's home like he does every night, Jesse taking him in without thinking. Another lost wolf for the flock. 

Cassidy bares his teeth against Tulip’s cooking, managing a facsimile of a grin that he’s very proud of, frankly. Could cut the awkward with a knife. Even his pearly whites would do at this point, Tulip’s holdin her fork like you’d hold a gun and Jesse looks set to bring down the wrath of God, or maybe just the Voice. 

Only Emily is unaffected, taking bitty sips of her beer all proper-like. Calm as anything, the woman is a marvel, cause Cassidy can hear her heartbeat rabbiting away. He and Tulip should just fuck the preacher already, hand to God. Make all that tension bleed right out. Cassidy burps, slouching even further into his seat.

“Delicious,” he lies, beaming at Tulip. She deigns to give him a narrow-eyed stare before hissing something nasty at Jesse and running off. Cassidy turns his grin to the ceiling, contemplating the beautiful lil swirls of it; he’s full up on Ecstasy right now, snatched from a wannabe drug dealer who’s currently six feet under. 

Jesse storms off after Tulip, leaving Cassidy to lock eyes with Emily; he waggles his brows. “Alone at last, yeah?” he tries, figuring why the hell not. 

She shoots him the look that every mother seems to have mastered, hand to God. “No.” Able to resist his charms? What a woman. He shrugs, easy. Tulip’s probably ruined him for all women anyway. 

“M’sorry, m’sorry,” he says, focusing deeply on the ridges of the table under his fingers, the little bumps groovy as hell and Jesus, did he really just think that? Seventies are over now, he’d be wise to remember. 

“Are you…okay?” Emily’s voice brings him from his reverie and he looks up. She’s got a kind of squinty-eyed, disgusted look on her face; he gets it a lot. To be fair, he did just put his face so close to the table that his chin dipped in his mashed potatoes. 

“M’ peachy.” She rolls her eyes, pushing away from the table. Cassidy stands too, hitching up his pants. 

“I’m going. Tell Jesse I said goodbye.” He nods, knowing he’ll probably have forgotten in the next few minutes. Well. Tragedy, that. He waves at her retreating figure before settling back over their meal, finishing first Tulip’s beer, then Jesse’s. Can’t let it go to waste, that’d be a damn shame. Full and satisfied, he stumbles over to Jesse’s couch, tripping and landing face down next to it but happy enough where he is. It’s only a few moments before he’s passed out.


	3. It's A Revolution

Tulip comes in later, steaming, the _nerve_ of that man! The day she understands Jesse Custer will be the day his God comes down from heaven and blesses them all. Too stubborn and wrapped up in this damn town to realize that they owe Carlos some revenge, and Tulip _will not be satisfied_ until she’s elbow deep in his intestines. 

Goddamn, it’s like she has to do all the work around here. Finding Carlos’ location, finding _Jesse_ , saving Cass when he burned his own damn skin off, _stopping_ Cass from buying all the drugs in the state and going crazy. Speak of the Devil, Cass is passed out on the floor mere inches from Jesse’s couch, softly snoring. This man, honestly. Couldn’t take care of himself if you gave him a guidebook. 

Tulip settles herself on the couch, getting comfortable, resting her feet on the small of Cass’s back. She hasn’t really worried about hurting him since the whole vampire thing, but she makes sure her heels aren’t digging into his spine. He grunts, never waking. Today he’s wearing Texas U sweatpants and a filmy purple tanktop that used to belong to her, too tight even over his skinny chest. 

Tulip lets herself be soft with him, leaning over to gently scratch his head. When Jesse comes in she sits bolt upright, annoyed and ready to fight with him again, jostling Cassidy. He makes an affronted noise, turning til his face is pressed against the couch leg. 

“Tulip, I’m just trying to say-” Jesse begins, all wide-eyed innocence and ‘please understand me’ expressions. 

“I know exactly what you’re trying to say,” she interrupts, moving her feet so Cass can sit up, blinking, the hair on the back of his head feathering in every direction. She smoothes it down without really thinking, going on, “You want to stay in this damn town, in this damn church, bein all charitable with these _goddamn_ people cause you ain’t got the sense that God gave a flea!” 

“Oh, I dunno, luv,” Cass cuts in, unfolding his long body to its full height, hands on hips. She shoves his skinny ass outta the way so she can keep glaring at Jesse, who’s staring to look real flushed behind his snow white collar. “I wouldn’t say that the padre here is all that charitable. He did let me burn to death in front o’ the church the other day.” 

“That he did,” she agrees, giving his belt loops a tug so he sways, eventually tumbling down next to her. Sitting, they lose the height advantage, but they have other advantages going on here, pure orneriness being one of them. 

Jesse’s expression turns achingly sad, guilty, his gaze focusing on Cass, hands open at his sides. “Cass, c’mon, you’re okay…” Now, Tulip loves Jesse, she really does, but she also likes watching him flinch back as Cass flows back to his feet, impossibly fast, taking Jesse by the throat and ain’t that nice? A little show, just for her. She eyes the long, strong curve of Cass’s back, Jesse arching away from him but, come on. Tulip knows her boy, and he likes it rough. 

“M’ _okay_ because your girl here brought me enough dogs that I coulda bathed in them,” Cass hisses, so close to Jesse’s ear she can barely hear it.

“M-My girl? I thought she was yours now,” Jesses breathes, clutching at Cassidy’s wrist, what a nice picture they make. Tulip bares her teeth in a grin, crossing her legs at the ankle.

“Oh, I dunno. I could be both of yours,” she says amicably, laughing when Jesse makes a confused face. All those years together, all they’ve done, and he’ll still always be the preacher’s boy, always one step behind from what the cool kids know. 

Cass releases Jesse and steps back, calm again, bouncing lightly on the soles of his feet. Jesse’s frowning, fixing his collar, still so damn calm and sometimes he’s barely the man she remembers. It pisses her off. “I’ll talk to you when you make some damn sense,” he growls, heading out the door. 

Tulip watches him go, never one to deny herself any pleasures even when they come from the tight-assed way Jesse walks when he’s angry. “Well, that went well, aye?” Cass says, spinning to face her, grinning. 

She rolls her eyes. “Sure.”   
+  
Cassidy loves a good fight, loves the feel of skin breaking under his hands. He liked the feel of Jesse, too, his heart pounding away, blood flowing lush through his veins. Cassidy licks his lips, remembering; that was a hell of a thing there, that was. Been a while since he got that excited over anything that wasn’t a narcotic. Still, it’s Jesse, and things have been hard for him lately, what with Genesis and all. Maybe Cassidy can be a charitable man, too. 

Tulip’s stood and back at the table, picking delicately through what’s left of their meal. He can hear her heart pounding, too. “Uh, Tulip, love,” he starts, hoping she won’t turn around angry at him, too. 

“Yeah?” 

“Maybe we could go a little easier on the padre, there. Only a little, I’m sayin. Nothing crazy, like.” 

“You’re the one who had him by the throat,” she points out, which is fair. 

“Ah, well. Y’know what I always say. What’s a little choking between friends?” 

She snorts with laughter, facing him, popping a hunk of pork in her mouth. “I’ll be kind to Jesse when he gets his big fat head outta his ass.” Cassidy shrugs, giving up, scrounging around in the fridge for a beer. There’s something called a Mangorita tucked away in the back corner, all flashy colors and fruit, so he takes that and downs it in seconds. Huh. Pretty bloody delicious, no surprise considering it’s clearly a lady drink. Well. Cassidy’s always been willing to work with what he has, yeah?  
+++  
Cassidy’s skulking back into Tulip’s house after a night of hard drinking, swaying a little, barely noticeable he’s sure. He’s an Irishman, alcohol near runs through his veins. 

He makes it through the door, very proud of himself, catches sight of Tulip with her back to him, on the couch that faces the TV. Like this, the flickering light of the telly smoothing out all her hard angles, he could near fancy himself in love with her. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, this woman. 

She’s singing softly, head bent over something in her lap. Jesus, he really hopes she hasn’t finally snapped and brought a baby home. There’s a lot he’s willing to deal with, okay? Little kiddies aren’t one of them. 

Stepping closer, he gets a glimpse of old pajamas, big socked feet, and relaxes. The uncle, passed out more often than not. Tulip’s singing him lullabies, voice scratching a little but passable. Well, he thinks so, anyway, but who is he to talk? He’s so gone for this woman. 

“Ah. Ahem.” Tulip’s head whips around so fast she near pulls an exorcist on him, hand to his heart. 

“What are you doing here?” she hisses, furious; Cassidy has surrounded himself with nice people who hate that they’re nice, hasn’t he?

“Well, ah…” He pauses, too drunk to know how to answer that in a way that won’t get him punched. _I came to see if you’d be willin to fuck and then let me rest_ won’t go over nicely, sure as hell. “Missed you?” he tries; she scoffs, nudging Walter to the side and getting up. 

“You’re drunk, asshole. C’mon.” He lets himself be guided to the bedroom, stumbling a couple times but overall comporting himself well, he thinks. _Personally_ , just to himself, he thinks Tulip might be purposely banging him into the occasional wall. Well. Who is he to judge how a woman gets her revenge? Lord knows he deserves it. 

Cassidy is rambling as she shoves him onto the bed, tugging his shoes off with single-minded, violent motions. “You’re beautiful, luv, you’re the bloody sun and moon,” he slurs, watching her wrinkle her nose at his socks.

“Jesus, Cassidy, these look like you’ve been wearing them since the 1800s.”

“Ah, that I have. Very reliable, these socks,” he tells her, wiggling his toes. Tulip wrinkles her nose, but she’s still gonna let him sleep here and they both know it. 

“Just try not to be disgusting all over my pillow.”

“Mm,” he agrees, already half asleep and lost in the smell of her, becoming familiar.

He barely hears her fond, “Asshole,” as he falls to sleep.   
++  
“Cass.” 

Cassidy scrambles out of bed, clutching at the waistband of his pants, extending a placating hand. “I didn’t do it!” 

“Relax, Cass.” It’s just Jesse, all buttoned up in his preacher blacks, frowning down at where Cassidy tripped over his own pant legs and fell sprawling. 

He grins, hoping he makes a pretty picture at least. “Hiya.”

“Listen, I just wanted to apologize for, ah, the other day,” Jesse says, formal as ever despite the fact that Cassidy’s not wearin a shirt and he’s mostly sure the gunk on his abs is spunk. Jesus Christ. 

“What, padre, the other day when you didn’t hold the door for me, like? Or the other day when you let the sun roast me near to a crisp?” he asks, being right cruel. Jesse’s face twists right up, all contrition and good old guilt, so Cassidy goes easy on him. “Ah, hey, no harm done. The third degree burns healed up real fast.” Cassidy gestures at his smooth skin, grinning with too many teeth.   
He falls back to his elbows, sucking in his abs just a bit, no harm in lookin pretty for the preacher. A man’s gotta try for the good things in life, is all. “And I think we both know it’s not me you need to be apologizin to.” Cassidy nods out back, where Tulip is viciously tugging weeds out of the garden, muttering to herself.  
Always trying to be normal, that one. Keep up appearances and all that malarkey, it’s the only thing he doesn’t get about her. Or maybe this is a recent thing, a get-Jesse-back-to-himself thing. A Jesse she knows, anyway. “Go on, talk to her,” he encourages, slipping a joint from his back pocket and fishing around for a lighter. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but what do you know, he finds it at last, taking one deep, overdramatic hit, blowing smoke at the ceiling. 

Jesse’s gone when he looks back up; there’s people yelling in the backyard, so he pops his head over the windowsill, taking another hit, then another, then another, til everything’s nice and hazy. Well, would you look at that, he thinks, grinning wide. Tulip’s just turned the hose on Jesse, screaming curse words that could turn a sailor’s ears red, God’s truth. She really is one hell of a woman.

Jesse’s face is screwing up tighter than a nun’s asshole, arms flailing uselessly. He scurries off, _Jesus_ , for someone who has the voice of God the man really needs to grow a pair. Then again, Cassidy thinks, turning to slouch against the wall, his head bumping the sill, he wouldn’t want to face Tulip in a rage either.

He takes another hit, then lets the joint dangle, laughing a bit to himself cause it’s all so inevitable, really, trundling merrily along into a train wreck. They’re gonna kill this bloke Carlos, and Tulip’s gonna do somethin terrible to the poor guy, and that’s it. That’s _it_. Christ, Cassidy can’t wait. Maybe they’ll let him drink his fill after, as a favor, like. Aye, that’d be the stuff. _That_ would be the _stuff_.  
++  
When Tulip comes back inside, _furious_ -how dare Jesse come here and say she’s overreacting, how dare he not _understand_ -Cassidy’s slumped against the wall underneath her window, legs splayed out. He’s red-eyed, blinking slow, one shoe on like he was planning to get up. 

“Ah, hello there, love.” The grin he flashes is even bigger than usual, followed by his tongue moving over dry lips. Taking pity, she tosses him a mostly empty waterbottle that’s been on her nightstand for several weeks. He seems to enjoy it despite the water being lukewarm and maybe holding a dead bug or two. Tulip assumes he’s eaten worse.   
Done, he tosses the bottle aside, making grab hands at her. “C’mere and sit in Santa’s lap,” he leers, fingers snagging the edge of her t-shirt. 

“It’s the middle of the summer,” she points out, letting herself be dragged over his knees, feeling his skin; it’s always several degrees cooler than hers. 

“Aye, dearest, I know,” he murmurs, distracted, slipping his thumb under her waistband. “Let’s make our own kind of Christmas magic.” Tulip’s still snorting at that as he pulls her in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh god i love this show so much and i love these characters i just hope i'm writing them okay???? like i said their voices are very hard to get right but i just keep writing more can't help it no idea when this'll be over. also sorry for all of jesse's pain in this story lol i promise he'll get a nice big reward later (it's dick. lots of dick) also could someone tell me if i need to edit my formatting/spacing for how i do my stories? cause it looks okay on a phone but otherwise...*shrug*


	4. from what i heard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit lmao guess I’m diverting from canon now so I guess all that shit with the mayor happened cause fuck him honestly but like tulip just killed carlos fast? And now they’re all probs just gonna chill from here on out, cause if you know anything about me you know I’m terrible at angst/serious matters so have fun guys!  
> Oh and also, cassidy’s gotta have superstrength, right? I mean you saw what he did to that cow lol  
> anyway spoilers for episodes up to 9

“C’mon, Cass, wait up!” Cassidy doesn’t even bother turning his head, smirking to himself; messing with the padre is one of the more fun parts of his day, pure and simply speaking. He can hear Jesse jogging after him on legs that are just a little shorter, probably sweating through his preacher blacks in this heat. 

It’s funny, is all. He loves watching Jesse get even more uptight, screwin up his face like an arsehole til Cass relents. Like right now, Jesse trying to apologize for the fifteenth time, like Cassidy really cares. He knows Jesse feels bad. He’s taken a nice little peek under the padre’s skin and there’s a good man in there, crouched and hidden.

Sides, the burns have healed up nicely and they got him closer to Tulip; nursing a burn victim really moistens her loins, apparently. He’s just sayin, he’s not judging or anything, but the first time they fucked for real his skull was still all Freddy Krueger like. Maybe that’s what does it for the woman.

“Mm, I dunno, padre. I got places to be.” Cassidy hunches further into his jacket, risking a peek out from under the brim of his hat at the sun. Damn it all, he hates the fuckin sun. 

“ _Cass_. **Come. Here.** ” Jesse growls it out, slipping into the Voice, and oh doesn’t that send a delightful bitty shiver down Cassidy’s spine. 

“Ah, padre, m’not sure you want me so close,” Cassidy mutters, stepping closer anyway because he has to, purposely getting into Jesse’s space. No one’s ever said that Proinsias Cassidy was good at following orders. Jesse’s squinting at him in that way he has, looking more confused than angry. “Well, m’here now,” he murmurs, intimate, getting too close til he can peer into Jesse’s eyes, grinning. Preacher runs hot, apparently; Cassidy feels a tad heated even where he is. “Now, what is it you’ll be wanting?” 

Jesse swallows, fingers twitching, and Cassidy can hear the blood pump through his veins in a siren song. “I just…” Jesse’s shoulders slump, defeated. “Aw, I dunno,” he mutters, and maybe Cassidy feels a wee pang of pity for him. Just a small one, mind, cause all the trouble Jesse’s in is trouble he dug himself into. Well. Cassidy thinks of the meat packing plant and various _denizens_ of the city. It’s only mostly Preacher’s fault. 

“I forgive you,” Cassidy says, soft and honest, reaching out a hand to touch Jesse’s shoulder, feeling his skin start to burn but not even caring. Ah, ain’t that the real shite part of this whole deal? He’ll burn for the padre in more ways than one. He snatches his hand back before the real fire starts, shaking out his fingers like that’ll do anything. A man has to try. “Now, lemme alone. I was just about to go visit your girlfriend.” 

Jesse rolls his eyes, still pressed up close. Whatever will the townsfolk think, Cassidy really and truly wonders. “I think you mean your girlfriend.”

Cassidy lets out a bark of laughter, sliding his sunglasses up his nose. “You’d think so, aye.” He dips his head in goodbye, heading back up the street towards Tulip’s house. If Preacher isn’t willin to take advantage of the good he has in her, then Cassidy will.  
++  
See, Cassidy was there, in the room. When the mayor died. Well now. He wasn’t really there, was he? Only the hunger. But he watched the mayor die, he drank and drank, and then he came back. And he doesn’t know why the girl, why Emily shoved the mayor in there and let him drink, but be sure he’s grateful.

He was so _hungry_ , hunched over with his teeth sunk deep in everything Tulip gave him, holding onto the back of a rabbit’s neck and just gnawing, blood on his hands and smeared over his mouth; he’d sucked on his fingers for a good five minutes just to get the taste. Not his proudest moment, not that Cassidy’s had a lot of proud moments. Well. He didn’t hurt Tulip or Emily, and that’s what matters. 

And then after, with the Preacher. No need for any real apologies after that, or even after Cassidy felt the fire extinguisher on his skin. He knew, then. He knew and he’ll hate himself for it. This is it, now. This town, these people. There’s no moving on for him anymore, there’s just them. Forever (for as long as they live, _not long enough_ ) Aye, Cassidy can’t help what he is; and what he is is terrible.

He lopes into Tulip’s house anyway, grinning. “Tulip, my love!” he calls, deliberately being an arsehole. She loves it, really.

“What?” comes her grumpy reply from the kitchen, where she’s sat at the table cleaning her guns. Ah, she’s the one for him. Or. One of the ones for him. It gets confusing. 

“I’m back.” 

“I can see that.” Her back is to him; he examines the upsweep of her hair, the long expanse of her neck. She’s a delicate thing, when she’s not paying attention. He settles his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs over the blades of her wing bones. She makes a pleased noise before leaning into his touch, isn’t that nice. One wall down. 

“Long day, love?” He keeps touching, careful. With Tulip, her bite is assuredly worse than her bark, although maybe, Cassidy _considers_ , that ain’t such a bad thing. A man can do with a nip or two in his life.

“Naw. Just had to deal with a motherfucker.” She puts her gun expertly back together as Cassidy sniffs the air, smelling flecks of blood on her jacket and don’t that just get him going. Bending to press his nose to her neck, he inhales deep, what a lovely idea that was.  
His hands slide higher, clenching. “Cassidy, if you bite me I am kicking your ass,” she drawls, pulling away; he takes a good handful of her leather jacket and pulls her back, firm but easy. No point in hurting the lady, and no fun in it, neither. It’s a weak man who hurts his woman. Although, Cassidy guesses, he’s not so much a man anymore. Principle’s the same, he thinks.

“Wasn’t done with you,” he murmurs, cupping her chin, tipping her head to the side. He leans back into his work, nipping, hearing the whimper in her throat that she forces to die, always bottled up. “Stay still.” Her heart is pounding, lush, the blood pulsing under his tongue. Ah, she’s forgotten that he’s a predator. That’s sweet of her, truly it is. Sometimes Cassidy forgets how good he is at tucking away his sharp bits. 

“Cass,” she breathes, still in control, a little smile touching the corner of her mouth. What a woman. He adores her, he really does. 

“Just…lemme,” he murmurs into her skin, sweat and cheap perfume and blood. “Lemme stay here.” He doesn’t know what he means, ain’t that funny, he’s even sober. She pushes him away, gentle this time, looking up with those _eyes_ , Jesus Mary and Joseph. 

He bends a little to hook his hands under her thighs, lifting her easy; she’s a tiny bit of a thing for all her pluck. Her hands tangle in his hair, pulling him down, softer than usual. “Of course, Cass. Stay right here.”  
+++  
Tulip loves Jesse, she really does, to the end of the world. That hasn’t changed. She just forgets sometimes, is all. Not right now, though. Not when he’s standing at her door with those sad puppy eyes, hat in hand. Metaphorically, of course.

“What do you want?” she drawls, being mean on purpose. 

“I’m sorry, Tulip, really I am,” he tells her, rubbing his thumb over his index finger. He always does that when he’s nervous, ever since they were kids. Doesn’t even know what he’s sorry for, just that she’s angry. That seems to be the theme since they were kids. Tulip O’Hare gets angry and the preacher’s boy calms her down.“And I know you’re with Cass now, but we’re til the end of the world, Tulip. You’re always going to be my friend.”

When did he learn to talk pretty and smooth, she wonders. Must be all those sermons. “With Cass?” He dips his head, peering past her like Cass is gonna appear behind her, slavering in all his vampiric, girlfriend-stealing glory. When will Jesse learn that he can have both? With how thick his head is, probably never.  
At least he’s pretty, she thinks, looking at his long, downcast lashes. She leans against the doorway, hooking a thumb in her belt loop. “Hm. Guess you’d better come in,” she says, peering over his shoulder like she’ll find anything there. 

Truth is, sometimes it’s hard to look him in the eye. She’s an O’Hare and he’s the preacher now, brought himself higher. At least with Cass she knows he’s crawling in the dirt with her. Then she catches the full curve of Jesse’s grin as he steps closer, brushing past her with a brief touch of polyester sleeve to her skin. She guesses it’s not so bad, him being here. Maybe.  
+  
Cassidy wakes up, or comes to if he’s being honest, to the low murmur of voices in the kitchen. He scratches at the hair low on his belly, thinks about going out there before finally deciding against it. The rats have been moved to his side of the bed, ain’t that sweet of Tulip, what a dear girl she is; he grabs one, snapping its neck easily as he bites in. 

The tiny back legs struggle against his palm for a few seconds before going limp. When this all started, when he was just a lad, the death throes were the worst part. After the killin, of course. He drinks, tossing the rat in the bin when he’s done. Eventually he’ll take it out. Before the rot sets in, honest he will.

“And Tulip, I swear to Christ, the man had a bird up his ass.” Cassidy gets up to his elbows, interest peaked. That’s Jesse’s voice, low and honey-warm like it sometimes gets when they’re passing whiskey back and forth after church, leaning over the pews to talk personal, like. It’s a voice that Cassidy bloody well likes. 

It gets better when he hears Tulip’s peal of laughter, subsiding to snorts. Aye, that’s the stuff. Getting to his feet, hooking his fingers into a mostly empty shot of Jack and gargling the dregs, he heads out to this kitchen.


	5. I'd Rather Go To Hell Than Be In Purgatory

“D’you think it’s gonna rain?” Tulip asks Emily, sitting in the back of Jesse’s church, her children crawling all over them. 

Tulip rests her hand on the downy soft hair of the youngest one’s head, mourning for a second. She could’ve had this. Probably wouldn’t’ve been happy, though. Probably.

Emily sweeps her eyes out the windows; they’ve been folding bakesale pamphlets all morning and their eyes could use the rest. The desert stretches on, parched in every direction as the sun beats down like the wrath of God. Tulip can read _What kind of fool question is that_ in the tilt of Emily’s head, but she answers, “Nope. Not for a while, at least.” 

Tulip shakes out her papercut fingers, wincing. She’s had worse. Doesn’t mean she has to enjoy it. “Well, I wish it would.” She’s never been good at making conversation, too sharp in the wrong places, bursting out when the talk’s supposed to lull. Jesse’s the one with the pretty words. 

“Mm.” 

They’re quiet for a few moments before Tulip blurts, “My gran, she lived through the drought of 37. Worst in a century. Said they were squeezing the toads dry for water.”

Emily surprises her with a disbelieving laugh, the skin near her eyes wrinkling. “That’s a tall tale, no way in hell did that ever happen.” 

Tulip smiles, slow and growing in confidence. “Now, are you callin my gran a liar?”

“ _Yes_.”

Tulip acquiesces with a shrug; Gran was a liar of the highest caliber, capable of cheating the Pope outta his religion. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

“You ladies talkin about me?” Cass asks, slinking from his lair over the church, blanket tight around his scrawny shoulders. His sunglasses this time are shaped like apples, perched precariously at the end of his nose. “I swear, the rumors are all true, every bloody one of em.” 

“Sure, Cass.” He shoots them a toothy grin, settling his gangly limbs into the chair opposite Emily, his thigh shaking next to Tulip’s.

“What’re y’up to here?” he asks, splaying his fingers over the unfolded papers, eyes jittery and unfocused. On something, then. A thin line of old blood trails from his chin to his jugular, easily explained as a shaving cut so she doesn’t bother telling him. S’not like the whole town doesn’t know he’s a mess.

“Folding pamphlets for the bake sale. You wanna help?” Emily asks, skeptic. 

“Oh, aye, lass. I’m the bloody king of pamphlets and the like.” He folds one into haphazard, passable shape. “Lookit here. A masterpiece.” 

Tulip rolls her eyes at Emily, who huffs a laugh. With someone else to focus on, things are easier. “Okay, Cass. Let’s get to work.”  
+++  
“Would you eat me?” Tulip asks one night, shifting to her side to meet his eyes. She blinks once, sublime in the moonlight.

“Oh sure, lass. Lemme just get your pants off,” he husks, shoving a hand down the back of her pajama pants. Lookit that, no underwear. He’s a lucky man. 

She bites hard at his lower lip, a warning. “I was serious, Cass.” This woman, really. All thorns and he loves her for it. He licks the blood away, _tasting_ ; it never made sense to him that he couldn’t survive off his own blood. Ah, well. “Would you kill me? Y’know. Like with Miles?”

Cassidy rolls onto his back, folding both hands over his chest. “Lord and Savior, Tulip. You really know how t’ask the hard questions.” They’re quiet for a moment or two, Tulip’s heart a murmur in the background, the softer thud of Walter’s booze soaked heartbeat in the next room. Some days, feels like all he hears is blood.  
“Aye,” he says finally, taking her hand to put it on his chest, too. Her fingers splay over his breastbone, twitching just a wee bit, people really never stop moving. “Aye, dear heart. If I got hurt enough, I would.” He doesn’t say that he wouldn’t have a choice, she’s sure to know that.

Tulip makes a soft noise, kisses his shoulder. “Well then. Good to know.”

“Mm.” She takes her hand back, pushing at him til he rolls to his side, away from her. He faces the blank white expanse of the wall, the blood stains where he got a bit careless with one of the rats. Tulip curls herself to him, isn’t that bloody great, he loves bein the little spoon. 

She bites at the back of his ear as she curls a hand round his waist, palm resting low on his belly. “If you ever come for me, Proinsias Cassidy, I’ll stake you through the heart,” she murmurs, real close and personal.

“Tha’s my girl,” Cassidy whispers into the dark, grinning the grin of a dead man.  
+++  
Y’see, sometimes, it’s easy for Cassidy to forget that there’s somethin else in the padre, somethin feral. Mm, maybe he sees the white collar and not much else, sees those pretty eyes and forgets to notice the scars on his knuckles. A real tragedy, that. Cassidy likes a bit of rough as much as the next man, or, bein honest with himself, more than the next man.

He remembers grinning up at preacher in the church, doing whatever he wanted, Jesse’s eyes on him shocked by his own power. Aye, that was a good day. “Now, padre, s’not nice to push your mates around. Didn’t your mum teach you that?” he says, grinning down at the preacher’s hands wrapped tight in the collar of Cassidy’s shirt. He wonders, maybe, if he could get a leg between Jesse’s thighs, like, distract him for a moment. Cassidy has been told that he’s _very_ distracting. 

“Why in the hell did you tell Emily that we’re fucking? You’re with _Tulip_ ,” Jesse hisses, getting that confused look he always gets when people are mean to him. Cassidy’s willin to bet he wears it a lot, the poor bloke. They’re in Tulip’s house, actually, the preacher angry enough to storm in here and pull Cassidy away as he was eating breakfast in his skivvies. 

“Was funny.” He shrugs, grinning wide, maybe a little high on somethin he found in Tulip’s bathroom cabinet. Ah, the life Cassidy lives, he’d never have guessed at it a hundred years ago. He knew about the jealousy, though. The greed. Aye, he’s always known about that one. Emily’s a dear lass, but Jesse doesn’t belong to her. Not ever, not when Cassidy has the chance to sink his teeth into him. 

Jesse’s eyes narrow, his voice dropping. “ **Tell me**.” 

Cassidy opens his mouth, forced, but he’s always been able to worm round the truth, ever since he was a lad. “Mm, well, tell you what? I got all sort’s of things, like. My height’s 152. I’ve got a liking for pudding, the good kind, melts on your tongue. Fought for Eire, and aye, I’ve killed more people than I can remember. Fallen from planes twice, really like strawberries but bananas taste weird. Best blood comes from-” 

“ **Tell me the _truth_ , Cass**,” Jesse demands, shaking him by the collar. 

Cassidy swallows, hatin himself, the words surging up from his throat and spilling out in a snarl. “You’re _mine_. You’re mine and Tulip’s mine and I’ll rip the bloody lungs from anyone who tries taking y’from me.” The fast gallop of Jesse’s heartbeat makes him sniff, leaning in, real close. Funny, that. Most people won’t let him get near. “Y’want the truth, padre? I want you on your knees, stuffed full of my cock and I want Tulip to get her hand in your hair and we’ll be the ones tellin you what to do, Jesse. You’re mine you’re mine you’re mine and I’ll do what I want with you.” 

What he wants is a lot of things, truly it is, but Jesse’s staring up at him, gobsmacked, until Cassidy stoops to kiss him, licking the taste of shock from his mouth. For a second there’s nothing, and Cassidy has screwed up, he’s made a bloody mess of things like he always does, until Jesse’s hands clench in his shirt, pulling him closer.

Cassidy grins over Tulip’s crow of triumph when she walks in to see what all the noise is for, as she steps up to his back, wrapping her arms round his chest, digging her nails in all mean like he likes it. Cassidy swallows down the sound Jesse makes into his mouth, pushing him back and onto the armchair where he sprawls, flushed and lovely.

Tulip lets him go, gently pushing. She’s already taken a ride on the preacher, yeah? It’s his turn. “I’m gonna ruin you, padre,” Cassidy growls, crawling into his lap. “But I think you’ll like it.”  
+++  
Proinsias Cassidy is not a quitter, yeah? There ain’t no beastie nor person nor uncomfortable sexual situation that he’ll ever back down from, unless he has to, not bein a fool and all. So he eyes Jesse’s back from his place in Tulip’s bed, nestled snug in her sea of blankets. The girl runs cold, and sleeping nightly with a vampire can’t be helpin, it really can’t.

He flexes his toes under the covers, yawning, watching the preacher’s back straighten, the muscles under his bare skin standing out stark. Sore red lines down his spine shift, left over from Tulip’s nails. The woman’s a wildcat, truly, makes Cassidy want to dig his teeth in. 

He’s glad this little threesome was finally consummated, in blood and sweat and Tulip’s commands. Jesse nipped marks on Cassidy’s neck; felt good, healed instantly. The booze they drank during only made it better, made everything hazy and slow and Cassidy teased til Jesse _begged_ for it, all pretty like. Even used the Voice. A good night. (The best night) Cassidy hasn’t had a lot of those, mostly. 

Tulip snuffles next to him, her long doe lashes fluttering, resting her knee between his legs. Right where she belongs. “Y’alright there, padre?” Cassidy rumbles, his throat raw and thirsty. He stretches out one arm, fingers grasping, tryin to grab the closest rat without waking Tulip. Wouldn’t do, that. 

The rat squeals as he digs his nails in, thumb under the neck to slit the throat easy, suck it down in thick gulps, lapping at the blood that drips down to his wrist. Jesse’s turned to watch him; poor man looks haunted. Cassidy has that effect on people. “What did we…I didn’t mean…” 

He buries his head in his hands, the picture of defeat. Cassidy smirks. “Aw, padre. Don’t y’know what a threesome is?” He scratches his balls, waiting for Jesse to respond, listening to his heart beat lush, pounding over Tulip’s that’s slow with sleep. 

“She’s your girl,” Jesse whispers hoarsely, and of all the sins they did last night he picked that one, the odd bastard. 

Cassidy snorts, masked beneath Tulip’s mumbled, “I don’t belong to no one.” She shifts, rests her hand over Cassidy’s chest where his heart should be. “You shut your fool head up, Jesse Custer, and come back to bed. I got plenty of love in my heart for the both of you.” 

Jesse’s eyes are scared, darting from his face to Tulip’s and back up, slowing on the marks across Tulip’s neck, over the plane of Cassidy’s shoulders. Cassidy nudges Tulip away to sit up and reach for Jesse’s hands, presses his mouth to them without even a threat of teeth. As gentle as he knows how to be. 

This close, Jesse looks like a spooked horse. “You’re okay with this, Cass?” 

“Aye, love. I’ve also got enough room for you in me.” The innuendo flies straight over Jesse’s blessed head; there’s a brief, hopeful moment before Jesse sags, nodding, leaning into Cassidy’s touch. 

“Alright. Let’s go.” Cass smiles over Tulip’s pleased hum.  
+++  
“Jesus, Cass, get your skinny ass off me,” Tulip grumbles, shoving at his shoulders. Instead, he drapes himself further over her back, blanketing her in his long limbs.

“Nah, love. I like you right where you are, I do.” He grinds his hips against her arse for effect.

“M’ trying to sleep, you fuckin horndog. Go bother Jesse,” she moans into her pillow. 

He nips at her ear once, listening for the sweet stutter in her breathing, before rolling to his feet in search of new prey. “Aye, dear heart. I’ll do just that.”  
+  
Jesse’s leant over the counter in the kitchen, scribbling something, his face serene. Not for long. Cassidy moves to pin him with his body, bending to sink his teeth in the back of Jesse’s neck, right over the collar. Jesse whimpers, now _that’s_ a new sound, pretty as anything.

Cassidy lets go, hooking his chin over Jesse’s shoulder, grinning. “Mornin.” Jesse takes one deep breath, and even that’s tempting, the sound of his living. The man _breathes_ and he’s tempting, Tulip, too, Cassidy’s never seen anything bloody like it. “Jesus wept, you smell good,” he groans into the curve of Jesse’s neck, resting his hands on his hips, curving his thumb under the waistband. “I could just eat you up.”

Jesse shivers, grinding his jaw when he realizes it, the stubborn fucking arsehole. “Not funny, Cass.” 

“Mm. Little bit.” He slides one hand up Jesse’s chest, over the black fabric, up to his throat where the collar rests, squeezes just a bit so’s to hear the blood pulse hard. Ain’t that nice. Man’s gotta take his pleasure where he can. 

“What do you want?” Cassidy pretends to consider, letting his full weight rest on Jesse, his lanky arms dangling. The sweater he’s wearing today was found in a dumpster behind 7-11. What a waste of fabric that nearly was, one good wash and you can barely see the bloodstains. 

“I dunno, padre. You on your knees, for starters. Tulip to eat, next.” There’s a satisfied curve to his smirk when Jesse turns, sliding to his knees with a challenging expression, a smile starting at the corner of his mouth. The man that all the world has to obey, listening to _him_. Could go to a man’s head, it really could. Luckily, Cassidy didn’t have that much in his head to begin with. 

He splays his hand over the side of Jesse’s face, hooking his thumb over the man’s lower lip, behind the teeth, pulling his jaw open. “That’s it, padre,” he murmurs, undoing his jeans. “Open up for me, that’s real nice of you.” Jesse just grins around his thumb, waiting for it. Cassidy could get used to this.  
++  
Cassidy walks in on the two of them, Tulip sat on the kitchen table with Jesse between her legs. They’re doing that thing they sometimes do, staring at each other with soft eyes, almost in wonder, the romantic shites.

Cassidy would be hurt, he guesses, only the other morning he woke up from a bender and Tulip was looking at him just like that, with those _eyes_. Very effective at making a man have all sorts of gooey feelings, those eyes. And Jesse does the same, giving him easy grins and laughter while he bristles like a hedgehog at everyone else. 

It’s more than enough, it’s _equal_ , more than he deserves from the both of them. But Prionsias Cassidy has always taken more than he deserves, so he plasters himself up along Jesse, squeezing the soft insides of Tulip’s thighs, and kisses Jesse’s temple. “Startin without me?” 

“We weren’t starting anything,” Jesse rumbles against his chest, low and pleased, pressing closer to Tulip so Cassidy can get his hands round her waist, fitting right.

“D’you want to?” 

Tulip laughs, bright, bubbling, holding Cassidy’s hands by the wrists at her hips. “ _I_ was starting something,” she declares, pleased as the cat with the cream, kissing him over Jesse’s shoulder, grinning, turning it meaner than it needs to be. He doesn’t mind. With them, together, it’s always good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's all, folks! can't wait for next season :)

**Author's Note:**

> the fuck bro i LOVE THIS SHOW i am literally addicted and finding all fic for it and if i loved jesse cass and tulip any more, they'd be jason todd. they're super hard to write for tho?? they have such specific ways of speaking but i really like writing characters who live like i do (trash) so maybe more??? i dunno <3


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